


Staring Down the Barrel of a Gun

by mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)



Series: Coldatom Kink Collection [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Gun Kink, Gunplay, M/M, Torture, ive been watching hannibal and it reactivated my gun kink, this is just self indulgent nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego
Summary: Len leaned forwards, a bloody grin plastered on his mouth. He opened his mouth and tilted his head up, the flat of his tongue pushed out of his mouth. He slid his mouth around the barrel of the gun, leaning in until his teeth clacked against the trigger guard. He looked obscene, his lips stretched around the black metal of the gun.





	Staring Down the Barrel of a Gun

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning for semi-graphic depiction of torture

Fuck.

A dull pounding was gathered at the base of Ray’s skull. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered being struck in the head. There was no doubt that he had a concussion, if his blurry vision and disjointed thoughts were anything to go by.

He groaned, his head rolling forwards slightly. All at once he became aware that his hands were tied behind him, the rope rough and biting into his wrists. His fingers slipped against the rope, the knots far too complex for him to undo like this.

He slowly looked around, trying to blink the blurriness away and get some sort of clue as to where he was. All he could tell was that he was in a warehouse, the only light source dangling above his head. He wasn’t alone- someone else was in a chair near him, their fingers scrambling over the knot.

“Where are we?” He mumbled, his arms jerking against his binds. The person next to him shushed him, their head whipping to face him.

“Shut up, _Raymond_. If they know we’re awake, they’ll come sooner.” The voice was hushed, barely audible over the buzzing in his ears. The voice was instantly recognizable, a thick drawl and heavy sarcasm dripping from the words like oil.

It was Snart.

His vision was starting to clear. Snart was tied to the chair next to him. His hands were tied on the arms of the chair rather than behind him, though he had managed to turn them over, his fingers working over the knot despite the fact that it wasn’t doing anything. Blood was trickling from his nose, coating his lips and teeth. A bruise was starting to form around his eye, signaling that his nose was broken.

A man walked in, two others trailing behind him. One of them was pushing a cart lined with what looked like knives, hammers, pliers, a lighter, and few guns. A gun was tucked into each of their waistbands. Panic surged through Ray.

“Well! Looks like our boys are awake.” The man said gleefully. He didn’t look intimidating. He was shorter than both of them, standing at maybe 5’7. He didn’t seem strong, even in a wiry way. His voice was surprisingly high and cracked. He didn’t seem any older than nineteen.

“So. You’re gonna tell be about that little team of yours.” He said, coming to a stop in front of them. The cart was settled between them, the other two standing behind the man.

Len failed to hold back a snort. The man’s attention turned to him, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Let’s start with you, then. How did you guys know about our plan?” He asked, his voice hardening.

Len just stared at him, unblinking. His jaw was set, his teeth clenched tight against each other. Ray had a feeling this wasn’t his first time being interrogated.

“Alright, let’s do this the hard way.” The man said with a grin. He walked to the table and grabbed a framing hammer. “Speak, or I’m going to start breakin’ bones.” He said, weighing the head of the hammer in his hand.

Len stayed silent.

“Alright, this is on you.” The man said with a sigh. He raised the hammer and brought it down on Len’s left hand. The face of the hammer connected with his knuckles and metacarpals. It was clear that bones had broken; a sickening _crack_ would be heard. The skin was red and broken in some places, the wounds oozing blood. Len’s only reaction was to roll his jaw and grit his teeth.

The interrogation continued for a long time. They left Ray alone for the most part, only threatening him a few times. They broke both of Len’s hands, smashed a knee, ripped out some teeth, and cut him to high hell. They seemed to realize that they weren’t going to get anything out of him.

The man picked up his gun. It was a Hardballer, colored black and gold. Ray would have thought it was a beautiful piece if it wasn’t pointed at his friend’s face. The only noticeable difference in Len’s composure was the hitch in his breath and the way his chin tipped up, his neck straining forwards just slightly.

_Oh._

The man held the gun with a strong hand, his arm level. The gun was almost level with Len’s mouth, just a touch too high. The man stepped forwards with a steady foot, bringing the end of the barrel of the gun against Len’s skin.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but cut himself off when Len moved.

Len leaned forwards, a bloody grin plastered on his mouth. He opened his mouth and tilted his head up, the flat of his tongue pushed out of his mouth. He slid his mouth around the barrel of the gun, leaning in until his teeth clacked against the trigger guard. He looked obscene, his lips stretched around the black metal of the gun. Ray could see his cheeks occasionally hollowing, could see the movement of his soft palette as he laved his tongue around the barrel and swallowed.

It was the hardest Ray had ever been.

Small rivulets of drool were spilling from the corners of his mouth. He was panting, his chest heaving with deep breaths that did little for oxygen. Ray could see the bulge of his swelling dick, straining against the zipper of his jeans. His eyes flicked up, coming back to Len’s face. The older man was flushed, his eyes glued to Ray.

Ray got even harder.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bimonlewis on Tumblr! Come bug me!


End file.
